


Push Me Over the Edge

by firesandpixies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, kenma is like a cat, kenma wants kuroo's attention, kuroken is my shit that is all bye, kuroo is so in love with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7185338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesandpixies/pseuds/firesandpixies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by @cavycas’ headcanon that ‘when kenma wants something from kuroo he just slowly and deliberately starts pushing things off of kuroo’s desk until he pays attention to him’</p><p>For the #KKM2016 prompt: Feelings/Jealousy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push Me Over the Edge

 

The first time Kuroo remembers this happening, he doesn't think too much about it, choosing to chalk the oddity as ‘one of those days’.

They were eleven, and after a solid hour of begging and using every method in the book, Kenma finally relented to play volleyball with him, despite the sweltering heat of summer. Kenma doesn't say much during the whole practice, only quietly setting the ball to him each time with deadly precision and accuracy.

Kuroo grins as he watches the focused look of his best friend. He sees the gears of Kenma’s mind working to calculate the most optimal angle, strength and timing for a perfect toss. Kenma hates sweating. Kenma hates exerting any form of physical effort that isn’t his thumbs tapping the buttons of his controller. But here he is, trying his best to set the ball even though it’s just a practice for fun (fun for Kuroo, anyway).

His face is flushed from the heat, and there are beads of sweat gathering at his clavicle where his threadbare t-shirt does not cover, but he tosses the ball anyway. _Just for him,_ Kuroo’s mind supplies and his grin widens, feeling a surge of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Kenma’s impeccable tosses however, do not last long. As the sun begins to set, Kenma’s tosses become sloppy. Sometimes it flies too high for Kuroo to spike, sometimes it verves too far left and sometimes the ball’s momentum is so weak it sinks to the ground halfway through its ascent; other times it goes so ridiculously off course that Kuroo does not even bother jumping to spike it. Kenma’s face remains passive as ever through the whole ordeal, lips set in a straight line and gold eyes shimmering in the sunset.

After the fifteenth time Kuroo misses the ball, he wipes the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and announces, “I think we should stop for today.”

Kenma only gives a single nod before bending to collect his belongings while Kuroo walks towards the stray ball. As he straightens his back, he feels fingers sliding across his palm before interlocking with his own. Kenma is beside him, their arms close enough to touch, and the shorter boy is intently staring at the ground, black hair conveniently hiding his face.

Kuroo only squeezes their held hands and smiles. “Let’s go home.”

 

-

 

Fast-forward, they are in high school and have started a routine of going to either of their houses after school to hang out. They don’t even talk most of the time. Their definition of ‘hanging out’ basically means existing in the same room together while doing their own things. Kenma will either be playing games on his 3DS or his computer (and on rare occasions, actually doing his homework) while Kuroo productively completes his assignments or studies for his test.

“Kenma.”

“Hmm?” the boy answers, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of him.

“What kind of girls do you like?”

 Kenma’s fingers freeze above his arrow keys, and he turns away from his RPG horror game to look at his friend. “Why do you ask?”

“Well.” Kuroo scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and stutters, “Well, I’ve never heard you talking about girls before.”

There is a slight pause before Kenma says levelly, “I’m not interested in them.”

“Oh.” Kuroo thinks for a moment before adding on, “But if there is any girl you are interested in in the future, I––” 

Kuroo doesn’t get to finish his sentence before a clatter interrupts him, and he sees Kenma’s plastic cup on the floor, its contents slowly spreading on the parquet.

“Sorry,” the tiny boy quietly apologises, “my hand slipped.”

 Kuroo gets up from where he’s leaning against Kenma’s bed and sighs in a way that’s more affection than exasperation. “What will you do without me?” Kuroo sings as he exits the room, presumably to get a dry cloth. 

Kenma mutters under his breath, “yeah.”

 

-

 

“Kuroo, there’s someone looking for you,” Yaku calls across the gymnasium.

Practice ended ten minutes ago and the volleyball members are scattered around the court, either cleaning up or doing their cool down. Kuroo looks up from where he is helping (forcing) Kenma stretch his hamstrings.

“Be right back,” Kuroo says, giving Kenma a fond pat on the head, and then jogging to the exit where a girl is nervously shifting her weight from side to side. Kenma watches them disappear behind the door and gives up on his stretches, opting to cross his legs and observe his teammates instead.

He must have zoned out because the next thing he hears is Lev’s voice echoing down the hall. “Oooooh Kuroo has an admirer!”

Kenma follows the source of the voice, and sees Kuroo re-entering the gymnasium with a white envelope in hand. Silently, he stands up and head towards the lockers while his teammates gather around their captain and burst into hoots and whistles.

 

_“What did she say?”_

_“Let me see the love letter!”_

_"_ _As expected of our captain!”_

_“Dammit, I am jealous!”_

_“Did you accept the confession?”_

 

A loud clang reverberating in the hall temporarily halts the boisterous crowd as everyone turns to look at the other end of the room. Kenma stands beside an overturned barrel of volleyballs, resolutely staring at his shoes. “Sorry,” he mumbles, shrinking further into himself with the undivided attention from the team. “I didn’t see where I was going.”

“It’s okay,” Kuroo chuckles, “Go change. I’ll take care of it.”

As usual, Kenma doesn’t give him a verbal response, but shows a small nod before disappearing into the locker room.

 

-

 

Kenma has been acting strange ever since then. To everyone else, they probably seem the same as always – walking to school together, meeting at the courtyard during lunch break, and waiting outside Kenma’s classroom after school – but Kuroo knows better. 

Kenma has always been quiet, and Kuroo has always been able to understand him without verbal communication just fine, picking up on the non-verbal cues that reveal what Kenma is thinking – the tenseness of his shoulders, the small sparkle in his eyes, the twitch of his lips; and for the past two days, Kenma is brooding. Technically, Kenma is behaving the same as always but Kuroo just _knows_. People say Kenma is skilled at reading people but obviously they haven’t seen Kuroo when it comes to his precious childhood friend.

But, Kuroo is also a man of patience, so instead of confronting his friend, he waits for Kenma to feel comfortable telling him what exactly is wrong.

They are sitting in Kuroo’s dining room, and today is one of those rare days that Kenma is actually doing homework instead of playing games. Although the blonde boy always says pulling his hair back makes him nervous, today, his hair is clipped back on both sides with black bobby pins. Once Kuroo notices this, he literally cannot do anything else but gape at how fucking adorable his childhood friend is. As discreetly as he can, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and takes a picture of the boy across him. 

“… Did you just take a picture of me.”

“No?” Kuroo lies sheepishly.

“Kuroo, I heard the shutter,” Kenma deadpans.

Kuroo fakes a laugh. “You poor child, you must been working so hard on your homework, you hallucinated.”

Kenma levels an unimpressed glare at him.

 _Dammit_. “But Kenma!” Kuroo cries with a pout. “You look so cute with your hair pinned back like that! I couldn’t help it!”

“You… are so embarrassing,” Kenma mutters as he drops his head and continues his homework.

With this hairstyle, Kuroo can now see the spreading blush on his cheeks. Kuroo isn’t religious or anything, but he can now verify that angels are real. Repressing a lopsided grin that is bound to annoy Kenma, he decides that any attempts at homework will be unproductive and begins to read a book he borrowed instead.

Half an hour of silence later, he hears a rattle to his right. Looking over, he finds his pencil case on the floor, stationaries scattered everywhere. He looks at Kenma and realises Kenma is already watching him. The smaller boy looks fidgety, like he is trying hard to hide his restlessness.

“Accident,” Kenma explains, not even bothering to apologise.

Kuroo shrugs, dutifully picks up his belongings and resumes reading once everything is back in place.

Five minutes later, he hears a familiar rattle and his pencil case is off the dining table once again. He frowns at Kenma in puzzlement while the smaller boy blinks innocently. As he bends over to reach for his fallen stationary, a swishing sound catches his attention. Turning his head, he spots his previously neglected homework fluttering in the air chaotically.

“Oops,” Kenma says.

Kuroo straightens his back and stares at Kenma. 

Kenma stares back, eyes glinting with barely concealed defiance.

 

A minute passes before Kenma swipes his hand across the table, knocking Kuroo’s book away. The black haired male breaks the silence with a defeated sigh.  _Too fucking cute_. “What is it, Kenma?” he asks, biting back on the cat related comments threatening to spill from his lips.

 

“Nothing,” the boy says, twiddling his thumbs. 

Kuroo laughs. “You really are a cat.” Oops, he tried to stop it. 

“I am not a cat,” Kenma retorts curtly, lips downturn.

“You are a fucking kitten.” Kuroo grins affectionately, reaching over to bop him on the nose.

 

Kenma’s face scrunches up in disgust. He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to go about doing it. So Kuroo patiently waits while his friend formulates his thoughts.

“Did you accept?” Kenma asks under his breath, unconsciously chewing on his lower lip while blankly gazing at the table. 

Kuroo’s brows furrow. “Accept what?”

Kenma glances off to the side. Whatever Kenma is trying to say, it’s apparently taking a lot for him to say it. “The… confession.”

_Confession?_

Kuroo thinks about it for a moment and then it clicks. _Oh, that._  Kuroo is about to answer the question, but a sudden thought interjects him. “Are you jealous?”

Kenma’s head sinks even lower. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kuroo.”

“Aww,” Kuroo coos, “is my precious kitten jealous?”

“No.”

“I think he is.”

“Am not.”

“Is too.”

“Am not.”

“Is too.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” Kenma bites and risks a glance at the wildly grinning Kuroo.

 

Though his expression remains rather impassive, Kuroo can just sense how nervous Kenma is. If he looks under the table, he’s pretty sure he would see Kenma’s toes restlessly scrunching and flexing. As much as he enjoys teasing Kenma and watching how hard the younger boy tries to hold back his expressions, he doesn’t want his childhood friend to feel _too_ uncomfortable.

He reaches his hand out, gently combing through the fine strands of bleached hair. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. I rejected her. After all, I already have you.”

 

-

 

**Bonus:**

 

Kuroo is sprawled on his bed trying to figure out his math assignment when he feels a presence by his bed. He knows it is Kenma. He can tell from the light footsteps, the faint smell of citrus shampoo, and the slender hands he sees from his peripheral. He doesn’t think too much of it, figuring that Kenma will probably just lie down beside him and play his handheld devices.

But he knows he is mistaken when his textbook flies across the room, hit by an unknown force, and his papers flutter messily in the air. He glances up, and sees Kenma looking everywhere in the room except for him. His toes are scrunched up, and he is subtly gnawing on his lower lip again.

Without a word, Kuroo scoots to the side, spreading his arms in invitation. Kenma drops to the bed immediately and crawls into Kuroo’s embrace, winding his arms around muscular back and pressing his face into the toned chest. Kuroo smiles and presses a light kiss to the top of his head. No matter how many times he hugs Kenma, it never fails to bring a warm, fluttering feeling to his chest.

He knows he’s so fucking whipped for his childhood friend. Kenma could tell him to decapitate a man and he would do it unquestioningly and spend the rest of his life in jail thinking about how _right_  Kenma feels in his arms. _Okay, that just went to a dark place._  Kuroo chides himself on his lack of morals and chooses to focus a more important topic. He breathes in the familiar smell of Kenma’s shampoo, feeling Kenma snuggle closer while drawing random patterns on his back with his finger.

 

“Hey Kenma.”

“Hmm?” the voice comes out muffled from Kuroo’s t-shirt. 

Kuroo flashes a lopsided smirk, “If you’re my kitten, does that make me the Cat-tain of Nekoma?”

…

…

…

_“NO, KENMA I’M SORRY PLEASE COME BACK.”_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell by now, this fic is completely pointless. I just wanted some Catty!Kenma and Kuroken in my life.


End file.
